


Parallel Tracks

by Medie



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Community: fandom_stocking, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 12:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock can't take the Ambassador's word for it. He's going to have to figure things out for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parallel Tracks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unbidden_truth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbidden_truth/gifts).



> _Kirk: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Message, Spock?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Spock: None that I’m conscious of. Except, of course, happy birthday. Surely, the best of times._

To say it was most unexpected was, well, an understatement of such gross miscalculation that he should be embarrassed to speak it aloud. Standing silent on the edge of the quad, Spock considered the bench and it's lone occupant with something he might have termed aggravation.

Might.

As aggravation was dangerously close to emotion, Spock would admit to nothing of the sort and, instead, forced himself to reconsider his opinion of one James T. Kirk.

Certainly, the newly-minted captain had equated himself well in the matter of Nero. Better, indeed, than Spock himself had. While it was far from true command experience, and nothing that would truly prepare Kirk for the challenge Starfleet had seen fit to bestow on him, it had suggested a certain natural talent for the position.

The Ambassador had suggested such himself, but Spock was not yet aged enough to willingly trust in something so mercurial as chance. That his own reality diverged from a specific point in the Ambassador's did not guarantee anything of skill or personality was even remotely similar. Spock had learned some of the other Kirk from the Ambassador in their brief communications. He knew that James Kirk had spent years in the Academy, studying and training, before moving on to a number of deep space assignments and had been well-prepared for his command. 

This Kirk that Spock now knew had been catapulted over those crucial years and that fact had given him cause for concern. It was illogical to compare them in such fashion, but it was equally illogical that the sight of Jim Kirk reading a book would reassure him. 

And yet it did.

"A Tale of Two Cities?" 

Kirk looked up with a small grin on his face. "Saw it in a store window. First edition." He tipped it to one side and looked at the cover. His expression became almost reverent and Spock found himself fascinated by it. "I haven't read this in years, don't know why I picked it up."

Spock moved closer, surprised when Kirk offered up the book freely and without request. He was careful in his examination, turning a few pages with a gentle hand. "It is an excellent piece, Captain, but might I have suggested a far more affordable option?"

Kirk shook his head. "I could've just pulled it up in the database, I know, but nothing beats holding it in your hands. Sometimes, reading needs to be a sensory experience as much as intellectual stimulation; you need to _feel_ the book in your hands and smell the paper. There's nothing like it." 

"I believe, Captain, you are something of a bibliophile," Spock said, nearly amused. He returned the book to Kirk's hands and didn't miss the way he immediately turned over and casually inspected. 

"No something about it," Kirk said, having satisfied himself as to the book's condition. "You should see the house in Iowa. It's nothing but books. Sam isn't as bad as Mom and me, but we all bring them home. Worst part about the Academy's cadet quarters was not enough shelf spac--" 

When he stopped, mid-sentence, Spock knew that he had been found out. He straightened his spine and did not acknowledge the slow smile that spread over Kirk's face.

"Didn't see that one coming, did you?" was the amused question.

Spock considered an appropriate disclaimer as to the suggestion, but found that he could not conceive of one. "No," he admitted, "I did not."

"It's fine," Kirk said, grinning openly. "It doesn't fit the image, I know. It surprised Bones too." He ran a hand over the spine of the book, tracing the length of it. "You know, I'm pretty sure that store undercharged me for this. Didn't cost anywhere near the credits I thought it would." He grimaced. "Probably recognized me."

"It would seem likely," Spock agreed. "The Federation and Starfleet have relied heavily on your image as part of its campaign to reassure the citizens of their safety." He did not, as a habit, pay any attention to such things, but he had been briefed by Lieutenant Uhura before he had participated in a number of interviews.

His involvement was nothing compared to the captain's of course and he suspected the new grimace on Kirk's face was born of remembering that process.

"You are disappointed by this fact?"

"This book's worth a fortune," Kirk said, sounding frustrated. "I know it's probably their way of saying thank you for keeping us from getting blown up, but--" he shook his head. "They shouldn't have put themselves out like that. I could have paid for it." 

"In my experience, human beings require a tangible gesture of their gratitude in order to believe it validated." 

Spock had never particularly understood this tendency, but had seen multiple examples of it.

He considered the book again and looked at his captain. 

"If you do wish appropriate reparation, perhaps if you were to provide the location of the shop?" 

Kirk looked at him, the beginnings of a smile playing about his lips. "Got an idea, huh?"

"I believe that I do. My mother always encouraged my exploration of her culture. I have traveled Earth extensively, visiting key destinations and museums, but have made only a cursory examination of its literature. I believe that this shop might be conducive to rectifying that particular error." It was somewhat of an exaggeration, he had built a small collection of texts. A source closer to his residence in San Francisco, however, could prove most useful. "I suspect if we were to suggest this to the crew--"

"--they'd all find themselves in dire need?" Kirk grinned openly. "Anyone ever tell you, Mr. Spock, you're a damn devious man?"

"Certainly not," Spock said, feigning at offense. 

"Relax, it's a compliment." Kirk stood. "Where we're going, we'll be needing devious." 

Spock could not disagree. One of the unfortunate side effects of Nero's rampage had been a Klingon assault on the Romulan Empire. Losing forty-seven of their vessels and tens of thousands of their officers to an apparently Romulan vessel had demanded vengeance on the highest order. 

The _Enterprise_ was facing an uncertain future when her five year mission finally launched. Fitting since it seemed her command crew would be as well. 

Considering that, Spoke moved to stand with Kirk. 

The best of times and the worst of times indeed.


End file.
